Mornings

Every morning is a different story. The moods range from waking up bright and chirpy, to sad and depressed, other mornings you wake up feeling plain terrible or simply like a rockstar. Mornings present us with an opportunity and uncertainty -- that almost anything can happen today. I think it is the possibility of the unknown that leads to such diverse moods. This morning as I woke up and started spreading the bed cover, I could feel this strange panic/anticipation inside me. I felt like something bad was happening or was about to happen. Could it be the upcoming examination? The recent developments? Or the fact that my mother was attending the funeral of a granny, a granny suffering from cancer who I went to meet during my summer holiday?

They say mornings are the most important because it decides how you sail through the rest of the day. Ever since I picked it up from a friend, I have always made it a point to wish myself "Good morning, Cyden". It is a verbal exercise that leaves me feeling rejuvenated almost every time. There was this one episode when I had my sister spend the night with me and, in my semi-conscious state, saw me wish myself in the morning. This story has been told and re-told to family members over the past year. To them it sounds amusing but for me it spells normalcy. Since being back in the hostel though, I haven't been regular with this exercise.

This morning I rushed through my chores because my heart was set on escaping the clout in my head. In the past few weeks I have had the most random of thoughts, dreamt the most hideous of dreams and imagined the unimaginable. During conversations with my closest friend back home, or with a few others who I make an effort to stay in touch with, questions often crop up about the uncertainty of the future. In the past, I always maintained that I would be the most stable among us sisters as far as relationships were concerned but ofcourse, presently, I am the farthest away from settling down anytime soon. My sister went from her father's house to her husband's home with nothing in between. I don't want to be this woman. So, my room-mate and I decided that meeting the right people didn't really matter because it all boils down to timing in the end. Who will be standing in front of you when you are ready to walk the extra mile?

As I write and ponder over my thoughts simultaneously, it will be noon in a matter of a few minutes. I would have lived through yet another muddled morning and night time might turn this uneasiness into a definite smile. This journey from being a mother's child to a father's dream, a family's future to someone's life has taught me so much. It gets a little too difficult to take it all in at times.